


Holding On

by Angie (Angie13)



Category: Dirty Dancing (1987)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-12-20
Updated: 2005-12-20
Packaged: 2018-01-25 06:59:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,209
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1637831
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Angie13/pseuds/Angie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes when you get what you have always wanted, you find that you want something more.  Frances Houseman grows up.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Holding On

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Tracy

 

 

The leaves change early in Massachusetts, she thought as she looked out her dorm window. Setting down the pen on which she had been chewing, Frances Houseman - formerly Baby, now a real and proper freshman at Mount Holyoke - frowned a bit and then shifted to set her chin in the cradle of her palm, elbow balanced on the edge of her desk. Somehow, though, she managed to stifle the sigh that rose to her lips and instead closed her eyes. If she squeezed hard enough and imagined thoroughly enough, she could ignore the chill in the air and the unfinished overview essay on Southeastern Asian economic trends that lay in front of her and return to a little cabin where the sky had finally broken open and rain pattered a musical tattoo on the roof as she rested, cradled and warm, in Johnny Castle's arms.

Johnny.

The sigh escaped at that, finally, and Frances - no, she was Baby again when she thought of him - buried her face in her hand in frustration. Two months and not a word from him and the excuses she had made for him were wearing thin. Unless he had disappeared from the earth entirely or been struck by a sudden need to join the Peace Corps, there just was no excuse for his silence. The thought of him losing contact with her cut deeply enough; the thought of him leaving everyone else he had worked with and played with and danced with, leaving Penny and Billy and the others, proved even more dangerous to her psyche. Lowering her head more, she ground the heel of her palm into the bridge of her nose. Yet that was what it looked like, that he had simply left everyone, even them. After all, wouldn't Lisa have mentioned something to her if Johnny had spoken to Billy?

Of course she would have. She was on better terms with her sister than she had ever been; they respected each other's strength and differences now. They shared opinions and made concessions. For Lisa, she learned to hide her boredom over the difference between eggshell and ecru. For her, Lisa had learned to avoid yawning when she slipped into a one-sided discussion of the misappropriation of relief funds. The summer of 1963 brought an understanding to them and a balance to their relationship. Baby could honestly say she loved Lisa now and not have to couch it in obligation.

Which made the pangs of jealousy all the more uncomfortable when Lisa poured out the quiet little touches of romance that Billy, her spur-of-the-moment boyfriend of exactly two months, one week, and a day, showered her with in spite of everything from budget restrictions to distance. Billy was apparently better at reminding the girl he cared about that he did, in fact, -care- than his cousin. Sometimes she found herself wishing that he would forget just once, just -something-, so that it would be her consoling Lisa for once. Then she realized what she was thinking and felt wretched for it.

Pulling her mind back to her work, Baby looked down at the sheet of loose leaf in front of her. A grimace and groan exploded from her, though, when she saw that she had completely maimed her essay with his name, written over and over until she suspected that the paper beneath would also be marred with the indention of his name. She sat back in her chair heavily, hands resting on the desk, framing the paper. She would have to redo it all but it would be pointless to try anymore at the moment. She simply could not think a straight thought, let alone a complicated analysis of economics. Her hands slid to press palms to wood and she forced her chair away from her desk with a rude squeak. She cringed, the sound ricocheting up her spine to crawl over her scalp. At least her roommate was out for the day. Not only did she object to loud noises but she possessed the annoying trait of wanting to understand and help all of the time with every little thing.

Unless Madeline could pull a letter from Johnny Castle out of thin air, though, it would be pointless of her to even try to fix this black mood.

Giving up her work as a bad idea, Baby spun on her chair and stood, pacing the length of the small room for a few moments before finally settling onto her neatly-made bed with the sighing of compressed springs. She buried her face in the pillow and resolved herself to dealing with her emotions. No more fear about feeling, she told herself. She had given that up long ago in the spartan little cabin at Kellerman's. So it was time to deal with things - the silence, the loneliness, the niggling sensation of betrayal. There was no time like the present and she could not let it interfere with her studies. Before Johnny had entered her life, after all, they had -been- her life.

So first things first. Did she still love him? The answer came simple and clear and as powerful as it had when she first had started to worry. Yes. She loved him in her own passionate way, more than all of the orphans and causes in the world, enough to have defied her father and relinquished her reigning title in the family as Daddy's Little Girl and enough to have never regretted a moment of it. Even when she did not know that, mere days later, the rift would be healed and she would be able to have both of them again. Did she still love him enough to wait until she heard from him again? She wanted to say yes but, if she were truthful, she wavered. She wanted to, certainly and definitely and adamantly. It was hard, though. Much harder than she ever could have imagined and he was making it no easier by staying away. If he was there, standing in front of her, she would... She would...

A knock on the door roused her from her thoughts and she sat up, rubbing at her face, just in case there were any tearstains. It would not do to answer the door with a face that looked like it had been scalded and slapped. As the knock sounded again, more insistent this time, Baby let her hands fall and muttered a delicate curse. "I'm coming, I'm coming," she muttered, more for her own benefit than the mystery visitor. Before opening the door, though, she paused, hand to the knob, and rested her forehead against it for a moment.

One last moment of sadness. One last moment of selfish introspection. One last moment before she once more banished Johnny Castle from her mind so that she could attempt to carry through with her dreams that were born long before she had ever even heard of Kellerman's Family Resort. She would write another letter tomorrow and tomorrow was another day, after all.

Opening the door, Frances Houseman lifted her gaze, polite smile in place. "Yes? Can I help you?"

But it was Baby who fell into Johnny's arms and dissolved in his reclaiming kiss and heard his breathless apologies.

 


End file.
